


Oleander

by Tommykaine



Series: Hang the DJ [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Adultery, Angst, Angst and Feels, BadWrongWeeks 2018, Challenge Response, Dark, Darkfic, Emotional Whump, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Female-On-Male Rape, Hence the title, I'm Going to Hell, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Incest, Inspired by Oleander from Mother Mother, Malfoy Family, Malfoycest, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, POV Draco Malfoy, Parent/Child Incest, Post-Deathly Hallows, Rape/Non-con Elements, Read at Your Own Risk, Suicide Attempt, The Angstiest Thing I've Ever Written, Whump, draco whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 14:45:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14595288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommykaine/pseuds/Tommykaine
Summary: “Lucius”, she whispered, smiling at him as her hand wrapped around his.Draco felt sick, suddenly realizing what had been going on until then.“I-I'm not...”, he whimpered. “Oh...oh no.”.He gasped, helplessly writhing on the bed as her hand moved faster and faster. He thought he had begged her to stop but he wasn't sure. Her scent was overwhelming him, her mouth closing upon his, and suddenly he didn't care all that much if he had imagined her words or not.He was left crying on his bed as she crawled away and slipped out of the room, leaving him alone with his guilt and confusion.---After the Wizarding War, Lucius is arrested and leaves Draco to care for Narcissa until his return. In his absence, things take a turn for the worse.





	Oleander

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frozenkingdom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenkingdom/gifts).



> I haven't added all warnings in tags to avoid major spoilers, but if you are strongly worried about squicks/dealbreakers I advise to go to the end notes to check if they are included in this story.
> 
> Written for the second week of LDF's BadWrongWeek (the theme was Incest) and for LDF's MMOM using the prompt "Showtime #03. Hai bisogno di aiuto?" ("Do you need help?").
> 
> This story was based on/inspired by the song Oleander by Mother Mother.

 

_I make a mess and you'll be there to help me undress_  
_I'll be unclean, I'll be obscene, you'll be the rest_  
 _And if you leave me, rest assured it would kill me..._

-

[Mother Mother – Oleander]

  


  


_-Crack!-_

“Young master, young master!”

The small creature that had Apparated in the studio was tiny even for house-elf standards. The only exception was for her ears, which looked comically big in comparison to her built.

“Nimny, I told you I was not to be disturbed”, Draco snapped at her without even raising his eyes from the parchment he was writing on.

“I... I is sorry, young master, but the mistress...”

Draco's hand froze in mid air, icy water running through his veins.

He darted up from his chair, abandoning the quill on the parchment and ignoring the ink stain that blossomed from the tip. His hands were trembling and his grey eyes were wide with fear, but when he spoke his tone was firm.

“Where is she?”.

  


Narcissa was smiling at him, without saying a word. It was kind of unnerving.

“I told you to keep an eye on her”, Draco hissed towards Nimny, who pulled on her oversized ears and trembled before him, her big marble-like eyes filling with tears.

“Nimny is sorry! Nimny didn't see!”, she squeaked. “Mistress acted too quick...”

Draco clenched his teeth. He was feeling queasy already, he was in no mood to deal with the elf's pathetic whimpering.

“Whatever. Go get some Dittany. _Now_ ”. His eyes narrowed but he held back the threat that nearly slipped past his lips. Instead he waved his free hand dismissively and turned his attention back to his mother's wounds.

“Yes master!”

_-Crack!-_

He sighed in relief, at least until the silence fell again in the room. He looked up at Narcissa's face, trying to decipher anything in her expression, but she was still smiling fondly at him as if nothing was wrong.

“Why did you do this?”, he asked, and he realized his voice was trembling. He swallowed the lump in his throat, his hand still holding on his mother's bandaged wrist. If that damn elf didn't hurry the cut was going to leave a scar. The thought horrified him. What would his father say if he saw that?

“ _Promise me, Draco. Promise that you'll take care of your mother for me”_ , he had said, a few moments before being escorted to Azkaban.

Draco wanted to cry, but he couldn't. He had to be strong. He was not a child anymore. His father expected better from him than to weep like a baby because things got too hard.

Her free hand moved to his cheek, fingers brushing on the light stubble growing along his jaw and below his cheekbone. He'd forgotten to shave, too taken by his studies.

He sighed again, his hand resting gently on hers. He didn't understand.

She'd been like that for years. She barely said a word to him or anyone else for that matter. Usually she went on with her day with no incidents, then out of nowhere she would do crazy inexplicable things. That was the third time she had intentionally injured herself.

She didn't really leave the house either, not even when she was invited to social events she would never have missed before. Draco had managed to convince her once, thinking it might have done her some good to see some familiar faces and actually be out in the open for a change. She'd seemed happy enough to indulge him, looking radiant in the new dress that he had brought her to buy for the occasion.

Yes, all had seemed to go well that evening, up until he left her alone for a minute to get refreshments and was stopped by Astoria, the younger of the Greengrass sisters...

His stomach coiled at the memory. He wished he could forget it, but he knew it was impossible.

He felt a twinge of anger towards the woman in front of him and nearly pulled her hand off of himself, his grasp tightening on her wrists until she let out the smallest pained gasp.

_-Crack!-_

“Master! Nimny has found the Dittany!”, the small elf ran up to them holding a small vial, then her huge yellow eyes widened even more as she looked at his hands.

Draco felt his face redden and let go of his mother's wrists, shame welling up inside him together with a deep sense of guilt.

“Give it to me”, he said, picking up the vial and opening it before taking his mother's wrist in his hand again, as gently as he could. He glanced at her face as he unwrapped the bandages and started applying the Dittany, but there was no trace of fear or sadness in her expression. She was looking at her own arm with mild interest, as if wondering why it was in such a state.

Still, he looked away as if she had shot him a dirty look, ashamed of his previous outburst.

He knew it wasn't her fault. She wasn't well.

No, it was _his_ fault. He wasn't supposed to leave her alone for so long. It was just that it had been so long since he spoke to anyone about something that wasn't strictly related to his studies so he lost track of time. His mother... well, she sometimes seemed to listen but it was hardly a conversation if he was the only one talking. As for Nimny he couldn't really talk with an _house-elf_. What topics of conversations would such a simple creature even _know_? The mere thought was ridiculous.

There hadn't been any more formal events after that one. The invitations had also significantly decreased in number.

Draco guessed it was to be expected. Assaulting people out of nowhere tended to have such an effect. He could only be glad Astoria was quick to dodge, or the Killing Curse would have hit her straight into her (nicely filled out, as Draco couldn't help but notice) chest.

Draco had confiscated her wand after that. That same evening, she tried to kill herself for the second time.

  


The first time had been a few months after Lucius was gone. That was before she went completely mute, but after she'd started refusing to leave the house.

Draco had found her in the garden, paler than ever and twitching on the meticulously trimmed grass, under the big oleander.

He'd been gone for most of the day to make some commissions, longer than he normally would. He didn't know what set off his suspicions when he got back but somehow he knew right away something was wrong. He spent so much time looking for her all over the house he was almost starting to think she'd run off somewhere, before he thought of looking in the garden.

If only he had waited just a little too long or wasted any time contacting anyone who might know anything, she probably would have been dead by the time he found her. The thought still haunted him.

That was when he decided to get Nimny.

His father had not been very fond of house-elves since he inexplicably got rid of Dobby. Draco never really got to know the full details but somehow Potter had something to do with it. His father got really pissed whenever the topic came up so he never dared to ask.

“ _Nasty, untrustworthy little creatures, the whole lot of them. We're better off without that filthy thing lingering around”_ , the man had said, much to Narcissa's displeasure. Even the priciest magical tools didn't change the fact that she had to do her own housework like some sort of commoner.

Still, he couldn't be around her _all_ the time and he most certainly couldn't keep an eye on her _and_ go out to gather materials or books or arranging commissions at the same time.

The little house-elf had been both eager and terrified at first, albeit she had calmed down once she realized Draco was not going to threaten to behead her or throw her from the top of the Manor or drown her in the koi pond. Firstly because he needed her alive to keep an eye on his mother, secondly because he didn't really feel a drive for cruelty after the war.

Having to actually harm other people had left him changed, in ways that he wasn't sure how to feel about. He suspected his father would not approve, but then again his father also hadn't been the same since then. Draco had never seen him as scared as when the Azkaban guards came to pick him up, he had never heard him sound so desperate than when he asked – pleaded, almost – him to take care of his wife.

Sometimes, Draco couldn't help but wonder if the man had known already. If he had seen the sign of his mother's madness long before Draco even had the slightest clue.

Still, it wasn't like he could ask him so he figured it was useless to mull over it.

  


~

  


“Mother, the bath is ready”.

Narcissa walked into the room, looking down at him. She seemed to ponder something for a few seconds, then her lips spread into a smile.

Draco gulped nervously, looking up at her. He was sitting on the edge of the bathtub and wondering if that really was a good idea. Then he remembered about her bleeding arm the last time he had left Nimny to take care of it.

No, he decided, he couldn't trust her to be careful enough. It had to be him. He would know if she was up to something. He would be able to stop it before she even tried.

“I, uhm, I need you to... you can't bathe with that on”, he said, turning bright red at the thought of seeing his mother naked. Merlin, that was humiliating. He guessed it was probably even worse for her.

She didn't answer of course. Instead, she moved in closer and sat on the edge of the tub, next to him.

“No, you need to...”.

He sighed. He could already tell it was useless. She was just looking at him with her bright blue eyes, smiling without understanding anything.

“Alright. I will... I will take it off for you then. Ok?”.

He looked up at her nervously, telling himself that there was nothing to be embarrassed about. She was his mother and she had seen him naked a hundred times before when he was a child, it was pretty much the same thing. There was nothing weird... well, ok, there was in fact something weird about having to strip his own mother to make her take a bath, but still. She was family. It was fine.

Even then, he couldn't help but feel like he was committing a crime as he unfastened her dress, pulling it down from her while looking everywhere else, then doing the same with her shoes and stockings. He couldn't bring himself to take off her underwear, figuring he could just spell it dry once she was done bathing.

He couldn't help but glimpse up at her face, wondering if she would look scared or ashamed, but she... well, he couldn't quite decipher what kind of look that was, but it certainly wasn't fear. She almost looked... eager? No, that couldn't be right. Or maybe she was eagerly awaiting for her bath. Yeah, he decided, that had to be it.

“There we go”, he said, helping her climb inside the bathtub. “You can wash up by yourself, right?”

She didn't answer, but she did start washing herself up on her own, which Draco was incredibly grateful about.

At least until he realized he had failed to take something into consideration.

That being, the fact that fabric tended to turn see-through when wet. Especially the silver-white kind.

He didn't realize he'd been staring until he felt something very, _very_ wrong happening inside his pants. He quickly turned his head to look at the nearest wall, but it was too late.

He wished he could just bury himself into a hole. He was getting _hard_ from seeing his own mother in the nude. That was a new low.

It would have helped if she hadn't been the only woman he'd seen naked before. He figured that had to be it. He just was so lonely and inexperienced that seeing a woman's body was all it took to send his hormones in a frenzy, no matter who it was. And his mother _was_ objectively beautiful, even now that her hair was all white and her graceful features were marked by a few age lines.

In fact he knew there was a fair amount of his previous classmates that not-so-secretly lusted after her, even after he had banned the topic from the Slytherin dormitory. He still remembered that family picture that had mysteriously gotten lost, only for him to find it again but with only the portion showing himself and his father remaining. He never found the culprit, but he had his suspicions.

He was so lost in his memories he didn't realize she was looking at him until her wet hand moved on his knee, soaking his pants.

He almost jumped down and looked at her in confusion, then followed her gaze and realized with horror that she was _staring at his crotch_.

Panic and horror welled up inside him, immediately followed by a crushing sense of guilt.

“I'll... I'll call Nimny”, he croaked, his voice dry and breathy. He tried to stand up but she grasped on his arm and looked at him almost pleadingly.

He swallowed hard. He knew he should have gone. Then again... he remembered the last time he had left Nimny to take care of her as she bathed, remembered the blood-filled bathtub, and his blood ran cold.

“Ok, ok I'll stay”, he said, scratching at his hair and trying to stop his heart from exploding in his chest.

He was looking anywhere but in her direction, so that was probably why he didn't notice her hand sneaking closer until it was _right on his crotch_.

He gasped, staring at her in shock, and the look on her face was...

No. It had to be a mistake. He was reading too much into things.

“I-I have to go!” he quickly said, jumping out and practically running out of the room.

He didn't know what to think. His mind was a mess of various emotions, including and not limited to shock, fear and regret.

Whether it was regret for not having left sooner or regret for having left at all, he wasn't sure.

  


~

“Nimny says you won't eat”.

Narcissa looked up at him blankly, and Draco sighed.

“I thought you liked rabbit”, he said, sitting on the edge of the bed as he looked at the untouched lunch on the tray.

Narcissa didn't answer and Draco let out a loud sigh.

“Mother, please...”, he said. He picked up her fork and picked up a small piece of meat, then tried to offer it to her. Much to his surprise, she opened her mouth and let him feed it to her.

“Alright”, he said, determined to make her finish her meal. He couldn't let her starve herself. He didn't know why she refused to eat by herself but maybe it was just some new evolution to her condition. He idly wondered if he was going to have to do this every time from then on, like it had happened with her baths.

At least he had managed not to get hard in front of her again. He thought he could die from shame if he ever had to repeat that experience.

Once the plate was finally empty Draco shifted his weight to get down from the bed, but then she grasped on his arm and said something.

“...s”

“What?”. Draco turned towards her, shocked. Did he just... imagine that? He could have sworn he heard her voice.

Narcissa scooted closer to him, leaning towards him. Draco could see every single one of her eyelashes. They were pale yellow, and barely visible unless one looked carefully.

He looked at her in a mixture of confusion and worry, feeling his own heart beating faster and faster.

Then her lips were on his, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he tasted rabbit and felt her perfume envelop him and for a split second thought about kissing back...

Then he jumped down from the bed, crawling backwards like an unsightly bug, and that was exactly what he felt like.

“N-Nimny!” he called out, his voice much too high.

His mother grimaced, looking at him with something that seemed a lot like disappointment. Draco tried to not let it affect him, tried not to think of the taste of her lips and her smell, nor the fact that his body was suddenly getting too warm and his trousers too tight.

He had to get out of there. Before he did something regrettable.

  


Draco didn't know since when he had started to think of Narcissa as a woman, rather than just as his mother. Either way, it made the times where he had assist her in bathing all the more awkward.

He would have gotten Nimny to take care of it again, but then he thought of the blood covering every surface of the bathroom...

No, he couldn't do that. It had to be him.

Even if he was developing some sort of disgusting, depraved reaction from being around his mother's nakedness. He couldn't believe it himself, but he also couldn't deny it.

Therefore, he had taken to masturbating before every bath so that at least he would not be hard _during_ it.

As long as he was in his room, far away from Narcissa, he could tell himself it wasn't too bad that he was thinking of her. It was just innocent. A harmless fantasy.

Then, one day, he'd been jerking it off in his room to the thought of his mother in the bathroom, completely nude as she soaked herself inside the warm water.

Except instead of silently washing herself she would grab his hand and guide it to her chest, letting him grope her ample bosom, pulling him inside the water until he was straddling her, his clothed cock pressed against the blonde tuft of hair on her crotch.

The rest of his fantasy was more confused and filled with guilt, but it involved him sinking his cock inside her, her voice calling out his name.

He'd been so engrossed with it that, when someone sneaked into his bedroom, he didn't even notice until he felt the bed creak.

He turned around at once, staring with shock at the woman that had been monopolizing his fantasies for weeks.

“Mother!”, he gasped, trying to pull his cock back into his trousers, but her hand closed on his wrist and pulled his away, then she leaned in until she was close enough that he could feel her scent enveloping him, her lips brushing against his ear.

“You need help?”, she whispered, and he thought he had imagined it, but her breath had felt so vivid against his skin, making every single one of his hairs stand on end...

If she really had asked then she didn't wait for him to answer. Her hand slipped between his legs and grasped on his erection, stroking him fast and eager.

Draco gasped and tried to pull her arm away but she just used her other one and leaned in closer to kiss him, silencing any protest he might have thought of coming up with.

The young man felt himself panic. It was completely mad, he couldn't possibly feel pleasure from _that_ , and yet his cock was so hard and wet he felt like it would explode.

“N-no...”, he whimpered, trying to push her off of himself but she just leaned in closer until she was pinning him down on the mattress, still jacking him off furiously. He couldn't possibly come from _that_ , not with his mother's breath against his ear, not with her hand wrapped against his cock and her soft gasps luring his orgasm closer and closer, until he could do nothing but twitch helplessly and throw his head back as he came, crying out loud while her mouth closed around one of his nipples.

He cried afterwards, unable to look at her in the face. He felt her lips against his throat, leaving the softest of kisses, then she moved away and walked up from the bed, leaving him alone with his confused feelings battling inside of him.  


~

“W-would you like to take a walk in the garden?”.

She looked up at him, but didn't reply. She never did.

Draco didn't know if he had simply imagined her speaking to him. He guessed he probably did.

He still felt incredibly filthy at the thought, remembering of how she had caught him...

No. He couldn't think of that again. He couldn't believe he hadn't stopped it when he could. What would his father think? He didn't even dare to imagine.

“Come on”, he said, reaching out for her hand and guiding her outside. She didn't fight it, so at least it was something.

He walked her through the massive garden of their manor, encountering no one else but a few fully white peacocks.

Everything in that garden was white. Including the flowers of the large oleander under which he had found her that time...

He tried not to think too hard about it, but he could see her staring at it.

“Come on, let's get back inside”, he said, feeling uneasy. The scent of the plant was filling the air, and somehow it smelled like her. Suddenly his trousers felt too tight and he wished he had worn something on top of them.

He couldn't help but feel like her gaze lingered between his legs, but he told himself it was absurd.

Surely he was imagining things.

 

~

 

The second time it happened he was sure he heard her voice.

He had been going at it on his own without even realizing he was being watched until she crawled above him on the bed and stared at him.

“W-what...”

“Lucius”, she whispered, smiling at him as her hand wrapped around his.

Draco felt sick, suddenly realizing what had been going on until then.

“I-I'm not...”, he whimpered. “Oh...oh no.”.

He gasped, helplessly writhing on the bed as her hand moved faster and faster. He thought he had begged her to stop but he wasn't sure. Her scent was overwhelming him, her mouth closing upon his, and suddenly he didn't care all that much if he had imagined her words or not.

He was left crying on his bed as she crawled away and slipped out of the room, leaving him alone with his guilt and confusion.

  


_~ a few years later ~_

  


Draco was genuinely happy that his father was coming back.

He was sure that, with him, things would go back to normal.

His mother would be talking again, and not just when she was alone with him...

Well, he guessed there would be no “alone with” anymore.

He could only be glad of that.

But then... why did he feel like crying?

  


“Father is going to be here next week”, he reminded her, his voice breathy and husky as Narcissa's mouth trailed down along his chest. “Oh, no, we really shouldn't...ah!”, he gasped, arching his back as her lips wrapped around his erection, her head bobbing up and down in a steady rhythm.

“Oh, Merlin!”, he groaned, shivering all over. He knew he was supposed to push her away, to tell her to stop it at once. Yet, he was too weak. He couldn't do anything but writhe and cry out in pleasure until he came into her mouth, unloading his come inside her.

“Lucius”, she whispered, crawling on top of him and smiling fondly.

“Mother no... it's Draco”, he said, unsure if she even was listening. What was even the point, he wondered. Maybe it would have been better to pretend he was his father. Still... he couldn't help the pang of jealousy that he felt every time she called out for his father instead of him.

“...Draco”, her voice murmured, and it was if she was seeing him for the first time.

He held his breath, staring at her in a mixture of anxiety and anticipation.

“Yes,” he said, and tears were spilling from his eyes. He wondered why. “I love you, mother”.

“I love you too”, she said. Her voice trembled and he was sure he heard her choke back a sob.

He closed his eyes as he let himself fall back on the bed, his breathing heavy and his mind in disarray. He could feel her weight shift on her hands as she pulled herself up and off from him, could hear the rustle of fabric against fabric as she disentangled her clothes from the sheets and put them back on.

He forced himself not to look up as he heard her footsteps getting further and further, and he was sure she had started running as soon as she walked out the door.

Forced himself not run after her and beg – he wasn't sure if for her forgiveness, or for her to not leave him there like that.

It was for the best.

He was under no impression that it had been anything but a diversion for her. He had looked just like him, didn't he? And he'd been there for her while his father couldn't... no wonder she'd get confused in her frail state of mind.

He had been nothing but a replacement, something to keep her somewhat grounded until his father was back.

He shouldn't have allowed something like that to happen in the first place.

He should have been grateful if she didn't come to hate him. He surely deserved it. He had basically taken advantage of her. She couldn't possibly have understood what she was doing, right? But _he_ did. And he had stopped trying to say no such a long time before that he could barely recall if he ever did in the first place.

He must have, right? He believed he did, but maybe it was just what he _wanted_ to believe. Sometimes it was hard to tell for sure. He had grown so confused...

Really, it was a good thing that it had come to a stop.

So then, why was he feeling so empty?

  


_~ a few days later ~_

  


Draco had been eager to see his father again.

He imagined the feeling was mutual. Lucius had never been the most affectionate father but Draco could tell he cared. He just demonstrated it with facts rather than words. Like how he made sure his confession would keep not just Narcissa but him too out of trouble, blaming himself entirely for having roped him into joining the Death Eaters when he was little more than a child.

Plus he was sure the man was glad to be finally out of Azkaban. The Dementors might have left the place for good but the company still wasn't much better. Especially given how some of the people in it were there because his father betrayed them. Also, Draco could have sworn they Ministry hired guard based almost entirely on how nasty they were.

The few times Draco had been allowed to see his father – always after much paperwork and several months worth of waiting even just to know if the request would be accepted or denied – he was sure he had seen bruises on his face. He hadn't dared to ask about them and Lucius hadn't outright told him how he got them, but he did say that sometimes the guards weren't too cautious about keeping his ex-companions away from him. Particularly if they felt he had tried to undermine their authority.

  


Narcissa hadn't talked to him nor came to see him at all for the whole time preceding Lucius's arrival. Draco had been worried she might have tried something drastic again, so he sent Nimny to keep track of her day and night, threatening horrible punishments if something were to happen to his mother. He kind of felt sick at his own words, but the thought of Narcissa's killing herself because of him made him feel worse.

He couldn't bring himself to face her. He didn't want to have to see the disgust in her eyes, or worse, maybe even fear. Maybe she thought he was a monster. He certainly felt like one.

He sighed as he looked at the calendar on the day before his father would be released.

At least they wouldn't be alone any more. That was why things had degenerated like that in the first place. So he was sure that, with Lucius there, things would get better. _She_ would get better.

Still...

He couldn't help but think of her lips against his. Of her hand between his legs. Of _her_ legs, as she pushed his head down between them until-

He shook his head. No. He had to push that thought out of his head.

What he did with her was not just wrong but meaningless. He still loved her like a mother. He just had been... comforting her in his father's absence. Yes, that had been it. It sounded convincing enough that he might even come to believe it if he kept telling himself that.

And now that Lucius was back, Narcissa wouldn't need him anymore. It was that simple.

He told himself he didn't mind that. It was good to be free from her. Maybe he would contact Astoria again. Maybe he would actually get out of Malfoy Manor for a chance.

Maybe, maybe, maybe...

He looked up from his parchment, out of the window, and saw her waving her wand in front of the big oleander to trim the edges, under the watchful eyes of their house-elf. He'd let her have it back after he felt confident enough that she wouldn't try to do anything... unsavoury with it.

He knew he shouldn't stare, yet he couldn't help it. The sun was making her hair shine like a halo around her face, it was making her pale skin look almost luminescent.

She was so beautiful in that moment, and looked so serene. Maybe it was because she knew her husband was going to be back soon. That was probably why she was taking care of the garden, making sure it looked perfect for when he returned.

Draco felt his gut clench, his eyes suddenly stinging for no reason. He looked back at his parchment but somehow the words looked too blurry to read.

He was finally going to be free, so why was he feeling so miserable?

 

~

“Draco”.

His name had been murmured with a quiet sort of disbelief, as if the man couldn't quite believe he was seeing him. It made him a bit uncomfortable.

His father looked a lot worse than the last time he had seen him too. Paler and thinner, with dark circles around his eyes.

His posture was different too. Rather than dignified and proud he looked watchful and tense. Draco could imagine why, but it still made his stomach sink. Was that really the same man he remembered being escorted out of their house with his head held high, somehow managing to look regal even in such a situation?

“It's good to see you, Father”, he said with a small smile.

The two guards that had escorted the man Disapparated from the Manor, while Lucius stared at him in silence for so long that Draco was starting to blush, wondering if he had something on his face or if...

Suddenly he paled. Oh. What if he could _tell?_

It wasn't possible, of course. No one could possibly know about that, except maybe for Nimny but she wouldn't be able to tell a soul. Also, his father wasn't a Legilimens and even if he were, Draco had always been skilled enough to keep even Snape out of his head.

Still, Draco couldn't help but feel cold sweat run down his back, wondering if he somehow could have figured it all just from looking at him, if somehow maybe it had soiled him so much he was just _reeking_ from the filth he secretly carried inside.

The man's gaze then moved on Narcissa, who was standing next to Draco.

“Lucius”, she said, and then practically threw herself into his arms.

The man froze up for a few seconds and almost looked panicked, as if he didn't know how to respond to the situation. Then his expression softened and his arms closed around her body, holding her tightly.

It wasn't the kind of way they would normally embrace, at least not around other people. There was something akin to desperation in it, which made Draco feel out of place.

He clenched his fists and forced himself to stay, to pretend that it didn't bother him. To ignore the sudden rush of jealousy at the way she clung to his father as if he could save her from drowning.

If he ever had any doubt, harboured any hope, that was all the confirmation that he needed. It had been Lucius she really wanted all along.

He told himself that he knew, of course, he always had known. He told himself that in fact, it was a relief.

She turned around then, facing him for the first time since she last ran away.

He tensed up and struggled with the urge to look away, terrified that she would now denounce everything to his father, tell him of how his wretched degenerate of a son had taken advantage of her confusion, tell him of how he'd been too selfish and cowardly to keep on fighting his urges and her increasingly insistent approaches and watch the man's contented expression turn into disgust.

Instead she smiled at him, stretching out her hand in a silent invitation.

With a strangled sob he raced towards them and let himself be wrapped into a double embrace, crying from the relief.  


  


_~ one month later ~_

  


Draco looked at himself in the mirror, pulling on a strand of blond hair.

“Why did you cut it so short?”, Narcissa asked him, making him gasp and turn around. He hadn't realized she was in the room too. He generally avoided being alone with her in the same room. It just felt... ill-advised.

“I just felt like changing it”, he said, shrugging.

“Hmm...”.

She didn't say anything else but he could tell something was on her mind. He wondered if she thought he looked better with long hair.

Better... or more like _him_?

The thought soured his mood, but he tried to shake it from himself. She had Lucius now, she didn't need him. Not in the same way she did before.

 

~

 

Draco stared at the door, his heart thumping so loud it was almost deafening.

He hadn't been meaning to go there. He'd just been walking back to his room after using the bathroom, intending to go back to sleep.

Except his legs brought him right outside of their door.

Why? Why was he there? He wasn't sure he even wanted to answer his own question.

Then, as his heart started to calm down, he realized he could hear noises.

His stomach clamped up as he realized what they were doing.

He hadn't intended to put his hand on the handle, it was like his body was acting on its own. He certainly hadn't intended to turn it around and open it, just enough to get his head in...

He sneaked in. He shouldn't have. He knew he shouldn't.

And yet...

Yet she was looking at _him_ , while she was with Lucius.

He could see her. Could see her gaze lifting as her husband moved on top of her, unaware of the third figure inside the room. Could see her lips curving into a mischievous smile.

Could see the wordless “Draco” that she mouthed.

At least, he thought he had seen that.

Maybe he really was gone mad.

  


As he jerked off in his own bed, unable to sleep, imagining her body covering his and her pussy clamping down on his hard cock, he couldn't help but feel sick.

Maybe he really had been the deranged one all along.

  


  


_~ a few months later ~_

  


Draco wished he could have said no.

He had told himself he would, if it ever came down to it.

But her lips were so, oh so soft. Her hands were so good and skilled and brought him _right there._

“Father will wonder where you've been”, Draco gasped, guilt and desire both welling up inside him.

“Shh...”, she whispered, her mouth clamping down on him.

When she pushed him down and rubbed herself against him, Draco wished he could say he had struggled harder.

When she forced his cock inside her entrance, Draco was sure he had said “no”. But it didn't matter. Not to her, and certainly not to him.

So _why_ was he crying so loud?

He got exactly what he wanted. He _should_ have been happy.

But he wasn't.

He just felt incredibly filthy.

When his mother finally left the room, he couldn't help but curl up in a ball and weep.

He didn't know what that was for. It wasn't like he never wanted it.

And yet...

Yet he never wished for nothing more but to be able to wipe away all memories of the last years of his life.

Especially that one.

  


~

  


His father never had said anything against Nimny, but Draco knew he didn't approve of her presence. He could see the way his eyes grew colder when they turned towards her, the look alone enough to send her scurrying away to find something else to do before he even told her to get lost.

“Why did you get an house-elf?”, he finally asked one day, when Draco had just sent her off to get something to cook for dinner - his mother had wanted Duck a l'Orange. “You know what I think about them”.

Draco shrugged.

“Other families have them”, he said, wishing that'd be enough of an answer.

“Since when do the Malfoys strive to be like other families?”, Lucius inquired, a hint of derision in his voice.

Draco looked away.

“I had to. She...”. His voice died off mid-way. He hadn't told him about the suicide attempts. He didn't want him to worry about things that were already dealt with. The man looked a lot better now, far from the horrors of the prison, but Draco could tell he was still haunted by the experience. There was something in him that had changed. He had grown mistrustful, sometimes to the point of being paranoid. Sometimes he suspected ill-intent over the slightest things.

Lucius looked at him questioningly, eyebrows furrowing from impatience as he kept silent.

“She...?” he finally prompted.

Draco bit his lip, knowing better than to test the man's patience. He would think he was taunting him on purpose.

“She... mother needed help. I couldn't be here all the time and I didn't think hiring someone would be a good idea. So I got Nimny”, he explained, trying to stay as vague as possible.

“And you don't think she could have handled staying here on her own, because...?”

Draco didn't like where that conversation was going. Did he already know? Did she tell him about it? If yes, how much exactly did she say?

“I just... I thought she wouldn't want to look after the Manor all on herself”, he quickly said, knowing how fake it sounded as soon as the words left his lips.

Lucius's entire body tensed up, eyes blazing in fury, and for a moment Draco was sure he would be slapped for his insolence.

“Tell me, Draco, would the actual reason have anything to do with what I heard about her supposedly attacking that Greengrass girl?”, Lucius said, his voice seething with anger.

Draco paled immediately. How could he explain that to him without having to tell about her condition?

“You fancied her, didn't you?”.

Draco felt his heart miss a beat, eyes widening in shock. How could he know?

“I knew it”, the man hissed, taking a step towards him. Draco was too terrified to even try to move, even when the other's face was right in front of his.

“Narcissa never liked that family, and neither did I”, Lucius continued, lips spreading into a humourless grin. “What were you planning with her, huh? Got that elf to keep your mother away while you fucked the little harlot?” he almost spat in his face, hands grasping around Draco's wrists so hard he was cutting off his circulation.

Draco was so stunned he couldn't even reply. Suddenly he realized that his father had no idea, that those were just the ravings of a lunatic. He didn't know _a single thing_.

“Please, father, you're hurting me”, he said. If only he could get him to reason...

Lucius looked down at his wrists, almost confused to see himself holding them still. Slowly his grasp relaxed, enough that Draco could have pulled himself free if he wanted. But he didn't dare to.

“I was only worried for mother. After you've been gone she's been...” - he swallowed hard, feeling his chest tighten at the thought of letting him know, but he knew it would be useless to lie - “She... she didn't really want to talk to anyone. Not even me. And sometimes...” - he hesitated. “Sometimes she would... get hurt. I think she was just clumsy, that she had a lot on her mind but I... I got scared”. He lowered his head, not wanting to see what kind of expression Lucius was showing him in that moment. Disgust, maybe. Disdain for his weakness.

“You weren't there and I... I didn't know what to do”, he whispered, swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill out. He didn't need to look any more pathetic, really. “You weren't there and she...”.

He remembered her hand on him, the way she had started looking at him as if he was someone else. He almost wanted to tell him, but the words wouldn't come out. He was sure the man despised him enough already, and he didn't even know the half of it.

“It was like... it was like she wasn't... I've never been alone before, not like this”.

Why was he trying to explain himself? It wasn't going to matter. His father had asked him to take care of her, he had _promised_ , but he hadn't been able to. Once again, he had disappointed him.

“I didn't know what to do”, he repeated, hating himself for the way he choked on the last few words, for the tears he was unable to keep holding back.

He felt him move and froze, closing his eyes as he prepared for the blow.

He wasn't expecting his chest pressed against him. Wasn't expecting the arms that wrapped around his frame, stroking his back in a soothing manner.

Draco couldn't hold back any longer and started sobbing, collapsing against Lucius's body.

Why? Why was he doing that? Why wasn't his father hitting him? Why wasn't he yelling at him? He didn't understand but it had been so long since he'd been held like that, so gently and carefully.

He grasped on the man's back as he felt a hand stroking his hair, his sobs quieting down a bit. This, he realized, this was what he had wanted all along. Affection. Comfort. His mother didn't hold him like that when they were alone. She didn't look for comfort in him, nor did she offer him any.

Yet to his touch-starved mind, it had all been the same as long as she needed him, as long as she stopped being so vacant. He hadn't even realized the difference then, but now? Now he wondered how he could possibly have mistaken those things as being the same.

“I'm sorry”.

Lucius had spoken in the quietest of whispers, so much that for a second Draco was sure he must have imagined it.

He finally looked up and what he saw surprised him so much that he went quiet.

Lucius wasn't looking at him in anger any longer, nor was he looking at him like he despised or hated him in any manner. Instead he looked mournful, maybe even _guilty_.

“I shouldn't have left this on you”, Lucius said, regret clearly audible in his voice. “I didn't know who to trust. We have made many enemies, and I didn't know who could betray me. You were the only one I felt I could trust. I should have realized how unfair it was to put it all on your shoulders.”

Draco felt like he couldn't breathe. His father had never talked to him like that. A part of him was almost scared by this change. Scared that he would wake up and find it had all been a dream. Scared that it could all be a lie.

“I put you in this situation. You, and your mother. I never should have rejoined his ranks-”.

The man grimaced, glancing down at his own arm as if he could see the Dark Mark through his clothes.

“I was so sure I'd be playing on the winning team I didn't think even for once of what kind of danger I was putting you in. I almost got you _killed.”_ , Lucius continued. Now his voice was rising in anger again, but it wasn't directed at Draco, the younger man immediately realized. He was angry at _himself._ “So much for protecting the pure of blood, huh?”

He glanced up at Draco again and grimaced, reaching out to stroke his hair again.

“And after all that, what do I do? I go and leave you alone to sort this all out, without thinking of how much you and your mother had just been through”, he then said, shaking his head and letting out a heavy sigh. “I'm sorry Draco. You did what you thought right. I shouldn't have jumped to assumptions.”

He was looking at him as if he waited for an answer, but Draco was still too stunned to even think clearly. He still couldn't quite grasp how his father had just _apologized to him_ for Draco's failure. None of what the man said made sense, and yet at the same time it all felt true. All that time he had always pushed the blame on himself for being weak, but how could he ever had been expected to do any better when he was asked the impossible?

“I...”, he whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I've...tried...”. His tone was almost pleading and he cringed inwardly. He couldn't even put his feelings in words, he kept looking for the right ones but they slipped from his grasp like running water.

The man finally smiled. A weak, tired smile, but still a smile nonetheless.

“I know you did”, he said. “I'm so proud”.

Draco let out a strangled sound, thinking it was a sob.

Then he realized he, too, was smiling. Smiling like he never did before, like everything in the world was right and nothing would ever be wrong again.

  


~

Draco tried to push her off.

She only laughed at him, pulling him in and kissing him for so long he felt like she wanted to steal his breath.

He had wanted to pull away. Had tried to, but his arms wouldn't move. His mouth stilled only for a second, then his instinct took over and he kissed her back hungrily, ignoring the guilt rising up inside of him.

When he finally did pull away he glared at her, crawling backwards until his back was against the wall.

“Why do you keep doing this? You have him!”, he said, his tone full of frustration. “You don't need me! So why?”.

She didn't answer right away. She didn't even seem fazed by his outburst.

“I have him, it's true”, she said, smiling in a way that gave him the chills. “But it's not him that I want”

Draco shook his head. He didn't believe it. It had always been Lucius that she sought, even when she was with Draco. She was only doing this because he reminded her of him. Maybe the man wasn't giving her enough attention, maybe she came to him when his father was too busy. He didn't know.

“It's true,” she insisted, crawling towards him on the bed. “I thought I did, until he came back,” - she placed her hands at the sides of his head, cornering him against the wall - “then I realized how much better you are than him. You would never leave me alone. You would never make me take care of the house like some cheap housewife. And you would never tell anyone about this. Right, Draco?”

He shook his head. He was terrified of her, and yet he wanted her so badly. He remembered his father's words, how he told him he trusted him, how he told him he did what he thought right – but how could that be true if he knew this had been wrong and yet he still wanted it?

“I never would have realized it without you”, she continued, one of her hands moving to caress his hair. He leaned into the touch, but soon her hand moved lower to trail down his neck, coming down to his chest. He felt a twinge of a feeling he couldn't quite place, something for which he had no name, sour and sweet at the same time. “You were so good to me... and I could tell that you wanted me. I couldn't help it. I fell for you, Draco. Long before Lucius came back. I just didn't want to admit it to myself”.

Her hand kept moving lower, reaching between his legs, and this time he didn't fight it.

Her words were finally sinking in, and once he realized the full extent of it, Draco almost laughed.

He did this. It was all his fault.

“I'm sorry”, he whispered, gasping when she moved in closer to seat herself on his crotch, his cock easily sliding inside of her. “Oh Merlin, I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm so fucking sorry...”.

  


~ eight months later ~

  


Draco looked at himself in the mirror.

His hand was pulling back the front of his hair, letting him have a full view of his receding hairline.

He sighed. He hadn't imagined it, he really was losing hair.

He idly wondered if he should try to get his hands on some Regrowing potion. He knew one had to apply it every day for it to work, which frankly seemed like too much of a bother. Then again, Narcissa really liked his hair.

Would she like him any less if she noticed he was starting to lose them? That prospective was terrifying and incredibly enticing at the same time.

She _would_ eventually grow less attached, wouldn't she? He couldn't stay there forever. His father had taken to jokingly ask him if he was planning on letting the family line die down with him, but as the time went on they started sounding less and less like jokes.

It wasn't like he didn't want to eventually have a family of his own. But with whom?

There had been Astoria, but that was ages ago and he didn't even know if she'd liked him back. Plus after the incident with his mother he was sure the last thing she wanted was to have Narcissa as her mother-in-law.

Also, he hadn't been thinking of her like that in ages. Even after meeting her again at this or that other social event. In fact, he hadn't been thinking of any woman in that way.

Well, he thought bitterly, except for one.

That was the other problem. He wasn't entirely sure of what his mother would do if she saw him get too cosy with another woman. She already cried in his arms sometimes, telling him that sooner or later he'd grow tired of her and chase after some much younger and prettier girl of his own age. Except sometimes she didn't cry at all, instead she yelled at him and tried to hit him, and he had to hold on to her and keep her there as she struggled against him, until her anger subsided and she finally stopped trying to punch him.

He didn't know what to do with her. He knew he should have found a way to put a stop to it, but how could he? She always got so mad whenever Lucius mentioned that he should start thinking about his career.

“I understand you've had a lot to deal with, and you still had some things to catch up with”, Lucius had told him on one of those occasions. “But the longer you take to make a decision the harder it'll be to get in”.

He didn't tell him that part of the reason for that was that their family name was no longer looked upon favourably by a lot of people, that it might in fact be a hindrance rather than a way to get his foot in the door. Then again, he didn't need to. Draco knew it all too well.

“I think I'd like to be a Healer”, he told his father, grimacing when he saw him raise one eyebrow as if to say: _really?_

“It's not exactly the most high-paying job, you know”, the man said. Draco strongly suspected his father was holding back from telling him exactly what he thought of that. “Nor the most... respectable either”.

“I like taking care of people”, he replied, looking down before there could even be a reply. Now that he'd gone and said it out loud, it really sounded silly. Yet it was also the truth. He'd been thinking about it ever since he had started caring for his mother, albeit back then it was just something he pushed in the back of his mind to deal with sometime in the future, as he already had way too much to worry about without having to consider a career that his parents would surely disapprove of.

As expected, he heard his father scoff. Well, at least he wasn't yelling at him. That was something.

Not that he usually did, but sometimes... sometimes the man was a bit unstable.

It had somehow gotten better and worse as the time passed. He wasn't quite as paranoid as before, but he was irritable and occasionally prone to random outbursts of anger.

The worst was when Aurors came to visit to check on his track record and make sure he wasn't involving himself in anything illegal. They questioned him for hours, trying to get him to admit to any ill-doing or anything that could make them think there was a chance he was up to no good. Sometimes it was clear they tried to push his buttons on purpose, trying to get him to snap and attack them so that they could have an excuse to lock him up again.

On some of those visits they also went around the house to check he wasn't hiding anything nefarious, sometimes confiscating objects they found suspicious to “bring them to the custody of the Ministry”. Somehow it often happened that those objects were pretty rare and worth a lot to the right buyer.

Of course, they couldn't really be accused of anything. Lucius was in too much of a precarious position to afford that.

Unsurprisingly, the man was always fuming after those visits, and then he'd be insufferable for days. Draco had been yelled at for the most random of reasons, from walking too loudly up the stairs to looking at his father in a way the other man didn't like. Same went for his mother, but the one who was most often at the receiving end of his verbal abuse was the house-elf.

Thankfully for all of them, that day seemed to be a quiet one for Lucius. Therefore he only limited himself to try and demolish his plans for a career that he reputed too undignified for a Malfoy by bringing up all of the most unpleasant parts of the job he could think of and contrasting it to more high-paying and prestigious jobs that “surely would be more fitting” for his only son and heir.

“He doesn't have to decide right away, does he?”, Narcissa interrupted them, placing her hand on Draco's shoulder and smiling gently at him. “You can still think about it, you know. There's no urgency”.

Lucius crossed his arms, clearly not appreciating her intervention.

“Narcissa, I know you'd love to have him around and coddle him as if he was still a child, but the fact is he's not. He's a man”.

She let out a soft chuckle.

“Oh, trust me, I'm well aware of that”, she said in a way that made Draco's hair stand all over his body. He glanced nervously at his father, but much to his relief the other man hadn't seemed to catch on.

“Then why, why do you always try to put this off?”, Lucius asked, briefly rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Look, I'd love to have Draco around forever just as much as you would. But it's not right for him”. He looked at him again, and there was a bitterness to his voice when he continued. “I don't want to see you waste your future for my mistakes. You deserve better”.

“He's not wasting it. He just needs some time, that's all”, his mother insisted. Her tone hadn't changed but he could feel her hand clench up on his shoulder. He knew she was getting nervous, and it was starting to worry him. She always made things so much more difficult when she was nervous...

“Why are you doing this?”. Lucius's voice was rising in tone, which only added to Draco's worry. “Why do you do this _every damn time_?”

“I...uhm”, Draco stammered, trying to think of something to say to defuse the situation. “Maybe we can continue la-”

“Why can't you just let him think it over? Why does he have to take a decision _now?_ What does it change if he does it now or tomorrow or the next week?”, she cut him off, completely ignoring him. Her voice was also starting to get rise and Draco felt his stomach tighten so much he almost felt nauseous. Things were getting bad and he had to do something, anything, before it went out of hand.

“Narcissa, _stop it_. This doesn't involve you-”

“The hell it doesn't! He's _my son_!”

“It's _his_ future!”

“All the more reason to stop putting pressure on him!”

“I'm not putting pressure! It's been weeks since I last brought up the subject, and with how long we've been discussing it-”

“I'm sure if he had taken a decision he would _tell you!_ You wouldn't have to push him into it!”

Draco tried to step in, but it was impossible to get a word in. In fact they even kept cutting off each other, and things were growing more and more tense. Draco wouldn't have been surprised if the air had been charged with magic, ready to explode out of nowhere.

“Merlin, shut up, please _shut up!_ ”

“Don't tell me to shut up!”

“I wasn't even talking to you! Why do you always have to talk for him? Didn't you say you know he's an adult? He can very well talk-”

“Maybe I wouldn't if you weren't so damn pushy with him!”

“Maybe I wouldn't be pushy if he could have come up with anything better to do as a job than sticking his nose in wrinkly old arses to see if they have Dragon Pox or herpes!”

Draco felt his face flush at that retort, cringing as if his father had slapped him. He already knew he would think badly of his choice of employment, but to hear him say that with so much venom just made him feel like shit.

He could barely follow the rest of the argument and even considered getting out of the room, but Narcissa's hand squeezed tighter as soon as he tried to walk away, still yelling against her husband.

“You treat him like shit!”

“I'm treating him like an adult! You treat him like a baby!”

“And you treat _me_ like a lunatic!”

“What? When did I ever... what does that even have to do with this?”

Draco covered up his ears, trying to drown their voices out. He almost wanted to scream, but he was scared their anger would retort to him if he attracted their attention while they were both so damn volatile.

At that point they were just yelling whatever at each other, regardless of whether it had anything to do with the original topic or not.

“What is your fucking problem?!”

“ _You're_ my fucking problem!”

“I'm not the one who jumped on the chance to start a yelling match!”

“I'm not the one who left for years and expected to come back and find everything back in place!”

Lucius had opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out of it. His face turned bright red and then as white as a sheet, his grey eyes so wide he almost looked like a house-elf.

Narcissa narrowed her eyes instead, tears of anger spilling down his cheeks while her whole body almost vibrated from the intense rage.

“What did you fucking expect?”, she hissed. “You turned all of our friends against us, then left us here alone, and then you come back and expect things to just go back to normal? Fuck you.”

Lucius clenched his fists.

“You have no right-”

“No, YOU have no right!” she clenched hers too, finally letting go of her son's shoulder. “I wish Draco had just left me to die! Then I wouldn't have had to stand here and hear any of your fucking bullshit”.

She stormed off before either Lucius or Draco could say anything, slamming the door on her way out.

Draco pulled his hands away from his ears, looking anywhere but towards his father.

“What did she mean, she wished you had left her to die?”, Lucius asked, his voice suddenly much smaller.

“I don't-”

“Draco”.

Just one single word, but his tone was already enough warning. The younger man sighed.

“She... she tried”, he swallowed loudly. “While I wasn't with her she tried... she tried to... kill herself”.

He could still picture it vividly. Could almost still smell the blood, and the deceptively sweet scent of the oleander...

For a long moment, Lucius just looked at him in silence.

“What?”, he whispered, incredulous. “No, don't-” he said before Draco could reply. “Don't... repeat it”. He inhaled deeply, rubbing his face with his hands. “Fuck...”

_I'm sorry_ was all Draco could think of saying, but the words just wouldn't come out.

“To hell with it”, Lucius said after a while, sliding his hands down until they were joined as if he was about to pray, resting his chin on them. “Nimny!”

_-Crack!-_

“M-master?”, the tiny house-elf asked, sounding terrified. Draco could understand why. After all she had never before been summoned by Lucius, who did his best to ignore her presence except for when he took out his anger on her. In fact, Draco wasn't sure of why his father had just done that.

“There's a bottle of Blishen's Firewhisky in the wine cellar. Go take it and bring it here”, he ordered. “Also, two glasses”.

Draco opened his mouth to say he was good, really, but then again no, he really wasn't. Maybe the burning taste of the Firewhisky would help wash away the memory of his mother's body collapsed in the bathtub...

And in the bed...

And in the garden...

And in all of the nightmares he had in which he didn't arrive in time.

  


  


~ several months later ~

  


Lucius's temper had grown worse over time.

Not always, but more often than before. More often than Draco cared for.

Lucius and his mother still argued every time the subject of him leaving came up, to the point where Draco was increasingly tempted to just agree to whatever career his father would be content with just to not have to discuss it anymore.

They also seemed to barely sleep together anymore. Draco had gathered that from the fact that his mother had started to come to his room almost every night.

“He's going to notice at this rate!”, he told her, grasping on the hand that was already sneaking inside his boxers. “You can't just keep coming here all the time”.

“He doesn't even wake up when I get up”, she said, shrugging and pushing away his hand while hers took hold of his rapidly hardening shaft. “He always takes a Sleeping Potion before getting to bed. That, or Firewhisky”. Her lips curved into a small, humourless smile. “Really, he couldn't fucking blame me even if he did notice. If I had to wait for him to have sex with me my pussy could shrivel up and fall off and he wouldn't ever know the difference.”

Draco didn't like the way she talked about him when she was with him. Then again, he also didn't like the way his father talked to her sometimes... especially when he'd been drinking.

Sometimes he'd check all over her body, surveying every inch of her skin in search of bruises.

His father had never hit her, not that he knew of, but he _did_ hit Nimny when he was drunk and particularly pissed. Draco was terrified he might eventually turn to his mother, and wasn't sure of what he would do if he ever did. Something highly regretful, most likely.

He didn't wish to find out.

“You're such a good boy”, Narcissa whispered against his ear, before sinking her teeth into his shoulder.

“Ah! M-mother...”, he cried out, writhing on the silk sheets of his bed.

“Narcissa. Call me Narcissa”, she told him, not for the first time. Her free hand reached for his nearest nipple and pulled on it harshly.

“Ow! I'm sorry... Narcissa”, he corrected himself, thrusting his hips upwards towards her hand. It didn't matter how long he'd been his lover, he couldn't seem to get himself to think of her as just “Narcissa” instead of his mother.

He could understand why she didn't want to be reminded of their blood tie, particularly while they were having sex, but he couldn't ignore it. Maybe she no longer saw him as his son but to him she was still his mother.

“Good boy”, she repeated, ruffling his hair. “You're so good to me, you know that?”. She smiled fondly at him, leaning down to kiss him until they were both short of breath. “I'll never let Lucius send you away. You don't want to leave me either, do you?”

Her hand was moving faster now, and between that and the fact he was still panting from the kiss he could barely manage to form words.

“I-I don't”.

Her smile grew wider. She leaned in closer, her mouth hovering on his chest. Her tongue flicked out and licked one of his nipples until she felt it pucker up, making him gasp out loud.

“You love me, don't you?”, she asked, her hand squeezing down a bit. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to remind him of her possessive streak.

“Yeah!”, he cried out, nodding for emphasis. He was so close... so close...

“You would never leave me no matter what, right?”, she insisted, circling the now-hardened nipple with the tip of a finger.

“I w-wouldn't!”.

Draco's head was more and more foggy, all of his thoughts replaced by a desperate, urgent _need_.

She moved again, her face now staring right down at his. Her expression was deadly serious.

“Then promise”.

“I... I...”, Draco gasped, struggling to even come up with a reply. “I p-promise! I pro...ooh...ooh, Merlin... mothe- Narcissa, I'm... I'm going to...”.

She kissed his ear, before whispering.

“Come, my sweet.”

It was like an avalanche, he couldn't have stopped even if he had wanted to and it took over every other sense, shooting out from his painfully-hard erection and leaving him a sweaty, exhausted mess when the orgasm finally washed over him.

He was so tired he slipped straight into sleep as soon as he closed his eyes, but just before then he thought he had heard her voice again...

“Don't worry love, I'll think of something to keep you with me.”

~

 

A few weeks later, Narcissa had started to throw up almost every day, much to Lucius's terror.

He was terrified she might have caught some fatal illness, but she kept refusing to see any Healers no matter how much he begged.

Despite feeling just as worried, Draco couldn't help but feel a little vindicated at seeing the man so desperate to get her to see a Healer after he'd badmouthed the profession at every occasion, trying to get him to change his mind. It gave him a sort of twisted satisfaction that he couldn't help but feel guilty about.

Thankfully, whatever it was it seemed to go away on its own.

Both Draco and Lucius could breathe a sigh of relief.

And then, her stomach started to swell.  


~

  
“Father...”

“Shut up!”

Draco clenched his fists, staring down at the floor to not have to look at the man in his eyes.

“How could you?”.

He could feel the disgust in his voice. The disappointment. It made him want to cry.

“I'm”, he whimpered. “I'm s-sorry...”

“Bullshit!”, Lucius roared, pushing him against the wall. “You... you sick little freak!”.

Draco could barely breathe, his arms clawing at his father's as he gasped for air. He was terrified of him. He'd never seen him that angry before, not even when he'd hit Nimny. He couldn't help but fear the man was just going to kill him then and there.

Then again... maybe that was what he deserved. Maybe that was his punishment. His way out of that nightmare.

“How could you?”, the man spat out, and Draco would have done anything to not hear the revulsion in his voice.

“I didn't mean to”, he whispered, his eyes filled with tears. All he had wanted to was to take care of her and to be loved by her. She hadn't ever tried to kill herself again since he had stopped rejecting her attentions, so wasn't that _something_?

He never intended for things to go that far, but he had been unable to say no. And now, that would be his undoing. His, and that of his whole family.

“Shut up! You just... just shut up!”, Lucius roared, his hand clamping down harder against his son's throat.

Draco's mouth was open, but the only sounds coming out of it were gargling choking sounds as he desperately tried to suck in even a single breath.

Maybe that was it, he thought. That was how it was going to end. His punishment for not being firm enough in rejecting, for eventually stopping altogether and letting things go on like that because deep down, even if he could, he never wanted it to stop.

“I... s...r” he gargled, feeling his thoughts slipping away.

He was barely aware of when his body fell down on the floor, something interrupting his father's “talk”.

“...had told you not to come in!”

There was some hushed arguing but he couldn't really make sense of it, too busy coughing and wheezing, inhaling deep lungfuls of air.

Finally he managed to look up, just as the man accepted something from his mother. His eyes were still watery, but she was too tall to be Nimny and had long blond hair.

“Thank you, Cissa”, he heard his father say.

Draco blinked a few times, and once he finally managed to focus he saw that his mother had brought him tea. He lifted his gaze to meet her.

And he felt his blood ran cold.

He could have sworn... there was definitely something odd in her smile. Something off in the way her lips spread as soon as Lucius brought the teacup to his lips

_(Maybe...)_

Narcissa smiled at him and then looked at Lucius, her bright blue eyes suddenly turning cold...

_(Maybe he had just imagined it)_

There was a familiar smell in the air...

Draco couldn't quite tell what it was.

_(Or maybe, he just didn't want to.)_

~

“Mother please, stop it”.

Draco turned away from her, stiffening as she wrapped her arms around him and rested her body against his back.

Even through his clothes, he could feel the familiar soft pressure of her breasts. It almost made him want to give in, but there was another much less familiar pressure against him, too big to be able to ignore it.

How could he have been so blind? All those months... surely he should have noticed sooner. Now that he knew it seemed painfully obvious, not just from her bulging belly but from the way her breasts swelled up out of nowhere, her more frequent mood swings, and of course the vomiting.

He felt so incredibly stupid, but at the same time he felt betrayed. How could she not tell him anything? How could she let it happen?

“When did you stop taking the potion?”, he asked in a small voice, clenching his hands into fists as he felt hers unbutton the front of his vest.

“What potion?”, she replied, her lips so close to his neck he could feel her warm breath in his hair.

He shivered, trying to will his body not to react. Her scent was distracting him. She smelled like she had been in the garden, and for a moment he recalled the time he had seen her from his window, standing in front of the big oleander and looking so beautiful that he almost ached for her.

“Don't”, he whispered, sounding so tired it almost surprised him to hear it. It barely even sounded like his voice. “Don't do this to me, stop playing games with me”.

“Oh, sweetie”. Her voice sounded kind, but it only made him tense up even more. “Aren't you happy? We're going to be a family!”

“We _are_ family!”, he snapped, pushing her away. “You're my mother! You can't... you can't do this to me!”. He didn't mean to raise his voice but he couldn't stand it anymore. He was shaking, trying to make sense of the mess of emotions in his mind. “You did it on purpose, didn't you?”.

Narcissa scrunched up her face, her eyes glistening with tears.

“I did it for you”, she said, sounding hurt and almost incredulous. “I thought it would make you happy”.

“How could you _-_ ”. Draco stopped himself, realizing he was yelling. He let out a shaky breath before continuing, forcing himself to sound calmer. “Mother, this is _wrong_. This... this has always been wrong, but...”.

He looked away, frustrated. He didn't know how to put his feelings in words. There was something so much worse about that. Before it had been different. It had been something between him and her, and he guessed father even if he didn't know it, but no one else had to be dragged in it. No one else had to pay the price for his sickness.

To bring a child amongst all that, to have it grow into that filth, with his father growing more and more unstable and his mother getting more and more possessive and clingy and him feeling like he cared less and less about what happened in front of him, what happened to his own life...

It made him feel sick to his stomach.

“Why are you looking at me like this?”, she asked, tears spilling down her pale face. She was so much older than him, yet she looked so small when she cried. “Do you hate me? Do you want to leave me?”

Draco walked up to the bed and sat on the edge, covering his face with his hands.

“I don't”, he murmured.

He didn't. Did he? Well, even if he did he _couldn't_ so it was useless to even wonder.

She smiled and moved towards him, placing her hands on his shoulders and trying to sit on his lap, but he got up as soon as he felt her weight shift on her arms.

“Stop it. _I can't_ ”. He looked up and his neck hurt from being strained, suddenly reminding him why it hurt to speak. He had blocked that out from his mind, but it was all coming crashing down. “Father would kill me. He probably will anyway”.

_He should._ He didn't say it, but he couldn't help but thinking it. He still didn't know why he hadn't finished him off for good.

“Lucius will not touch you, I'll make sure of it”, she said, sounding so smug and confident that Draco didn't even want to ask how she planned to do that. Something told him he wouldn't like the answer.

“I don't want you to touch me either”.

The words came as a shock to him almost as much as they did to her.

He looked down as his vision blurred, his body shaking again. He felt like crying and didn't even know why. All he knew was that no matter how much it sounded like a lie, he really meant what he just said. He didn't want her to touch him. He didn't want her to suffocate him with her presence, to confuse his mind with her smell. He didn't want her to use his body against him and ignore his protests, to make him so hard he couldn't even think straight.

He heard her slap before he felt it. His cheek was numb at first, and then it started stinging.

He looked up at her, confused, and shuddered as he saw the anger in her face.

“Why do you hate me?”, she hissed more than asked, edging closer to him as he crawled backwards on the bed. “What did I ever do to you?”

“I don't... I don't hate you”. He couldn't hate her. He loved her too much for that. But he was afraid of her and confused and needed to get away from it all. “Please, go back to father. He's going to know-”

“I don't care about what he does or does not know!”, she yelled, pushing him down on the mattress and forcing him underneath her with her weight. Draco was stronger than her but he didn't dare to struggle too hard, afraid of accidentally kicking her belly or hitting it with his elbow. He was growing more and more scared, all he wanted was to call for help, but who could possibly help him?

He thought of his father as she pressed her lips against his, forcing her tongue inside, her fingers locking his in such a tight grip he could feel the tips turning numb. He wished that he could save him, save him from all of that, but he remembered his disgust. His worst nightmare had come true, he finally had managed to make Lucius come to despise him just like he always feared he would. How could he possibly save him, he thought bitterly, when he was the one who ruined everything?

He thought of his hands squeezing down on his throat, stealing away his breath like her kiss was. In that moment, he wasn't sure of which he would have preferred.

“I love you”, she whispered once she pulled back, smiling against his lips.

He kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to look at her. He didn't want to see her face and get confused again, to give up like he always did the few times he even bothered to try to struggle. He hadn't tried to refuse in what felt like centuries. What would he do that for? It wasn't like it mattered. She wanted it, and in the end she always made sure he did too, or at least he thought he did. Now he was not so sure if that ever had been the case. He guessed he must have.

“You love me, don't you?”, she asked, opening the front of his robe and then that of his trousers with one hand. He tried to pull them back up but gave up when she slapped away his hand. “Don't you?”

He let his other hand limp too, feeling her fingers loosen their grip. Why did he even try to fight it? He knew it would just end up like that. All he did was making things worse.

“Tell me, Draco”, she insisted, slipping her hand inside his underwear to stroke him, to make him hard for her. To make him cave in faster. “Tell me that you love me.”

He tried to fight back against his rising arousal, knowing right away that it was a losing battle. His body didn't understand and it wouldn't listen to his will. He had no control over it. It fully belonged to her, like a well-tuned instrument that only she knew how to play. As such, it only responded to her touch, to her scent, to the very sight of her.

He grasped on his sheets as he felt his temperature rise, his breath coming out in short gasps. He was hard in her hand, just as she wanted, because of course he would be. He cursed himself in silence, opening his eyes to finally look up at her.

He saw her smile at him, saw her expectant and hopeful expression. He felt it tug at his heart and he tried to bring out the words, but they felt like venom in his mouth. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't bring himself to.

“Tell me”.

He could hear the urgency rising in her voice, but it didn't help. He turned his head to the side and froze at once.

His father returned his gaze, standing just a few steps away from the bed. He couldn't quite decipher the man's expression but he seemed frozen in shock.

Draco felt himself panic. How long had he been there? How much had he seen? Why didn't he say anything?

Narcissa kept on repeating the same words at him as her hand moved, trying to get him to comply. When she finally noticed what he was looking at, Draco heard her chuckle.

Lucius's eyes darkened, darting back and forth between the two as his features twisted in revulsion.

“What is... _this_ ”.

The last word was spat out like bile. Draco felt his heart sink. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. Instead he stared at the man almost pleadingly, wondering if he would try to kill him again. Wondering if he was really fearing or hoping him to, or maybe both at once.

Lucius pulled out his wand, pointed it towards Draco.

He felt Narcissa gasp above himself, but he didn't look up. _Do it,_ he thought, wondering if he could somehow will him to if he kept on repeating it in his head. _Do it, make it stop, make it all stop, save me from this nightmare!_

But the man hesitated. His hand was starting to shake, his eyes now fixed on his son's. There was something in his expression, something that changed it and turned his disgust into horror.

In a second, his wand was pointed towards Narcissa.

“Get up”, the man hissed, his voice filled with a sort of cold anger. “Get away from him”.

“Why?”, she asked, smiling as if she was just making small talk. “He doesn't want me to”,

“You did this”. It was not a question. On his face was a look of dawning realization. “You... how could you?”

“I didn't do anything he didn't want me to”, she replied, her hand still moving along her son's cock. There was no hint of doubt or worry in her voice, in fact she sounded all too pleased with herself.

Draco finally looked down, too broken to even cry. He didn't dare to move at all, terrified that it might set off his father if he did. Was he really intending to kill her? He certainly sounded like it. Draco couldn't let him do that. It was his fault, so why was his father angry with mother? He was glad he wasn't looking at him like he made him sick, but now he was terrified Lucius might do something to hurt her instead.

“Get the fuck away from him you conniving, treacherous little _whore_ ”, the man spat out, taking a step towards them.

“I did it!”, Draco cried out, moving to sit up between his mother's body and the aim of his father's wand. “I told her to! _I told her to!_ Please!”. He didn't quite know if it was a lie. He couldn't remember. He wasn't sure he wanted to either. “Please, don't”.

Lucius hesitated. For a moment it seemed he wanted to believe him, but then his expression changed again. Confusion mixed in with anger and sadness.

“I know you didn't”, the man said. “Now get away from her-”

“No!”. Draco only pushed his back closer against her, making sure he was covering her fully. She still was touching him, even then, but he was barely aware of that.

“Draco, for the last time, get the f-”.

The man brought a hand to his mouth, his body whole shuddering. He started coughing violently, trying to keep his wand pointed in their direction. His hand was shaking so hard he couldn't hold on to it for much longer, letting it fall down as he too fell down on his knees, bringing both hands to his own throat.

“Father?”.

Draco tried to get down from the bed, but Narcissa held him close. It was like being in the grasp of a Devil's Snare.

“Father!”, he called out again, struggling to no avail.

There was something wrong, something horribly wrong in the way the man wheezed, his saliva foaming up and dribbling down his lips. He was turning pale all over but for his lips, which were bright pink and covered in small boils...

Draco stopped struggling.

He realized with dread, he had seen something like that before. It was burned into his mind, just like...

_(Just like the smell)._

Slowly, his head turned to the side where his nightstand was, where his mother had placed a vase with the branches he had cut from the shrub. His mind recoiled in horror.

“NIM-”

Her hand clamped on his mouth before he could call out for the house-elf, the other finally moving away from between his legs. He tried to struggle with all of his strength, but she struck him with an Incarcerous before he could manage to pull free.

“Shh”, she whispered directly against his ear, before licking along its shell. Her mouth trailed down his neck as her hand found his softening cock again, coaxing it back into full arousal, while the other was still pressed tightly against his mouth to suffocate his screams.

“It's alright, baby don't fight it”, she cooed, her tone surprisingly gentle as opposed to her actions. “He's not going to take you away from me. I told you I'd never let him do that”.

Draco didn't want to listen to her but he had no other choice. He watched in horror as his father collapsed on the floor, motionless except for the spasms that shook his whole body. His grey eyes were staring at him, silently asking him for help, but Draco couldn't. He couldn't do anything but lie against his mother's body and let her touch him.

She was stroking him leisurely, intentionally delaying his release. It didn't take long for Draco to understand why. She wanted him to watch him die. She wanted Lucius to watch as he did nothing, nothing at all to help him.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

A part of his mind refused to accept what was happening, refused to acknowledge what was about to happen in front of his eyes. It had to be all a nightmare. Any moment he would wake up, and it would all have been a dream, and his mother wouldn't be forcing him to come to the sight of his father's last dying breaths.

As his orgasm eventually built up, surging through despite his fear and despair, everything ceased to matter. He came with a muffled scream, arching up and twitching against Narcissa while she whispered something against his ear, something he couldn't fully make out except for the words “love you”. He kept on screaming as she milked out the last spurts from his cock, and he didn't stop even when that hand was off from him, his eyes so blurred up with tears he couldn't even see his father any more. He could only see that he was no longer moving.

“Oh, Draco,” she murmured once he finally calmed down some, his screaming turning into loud sobbing. “Oh my sweet, sweet Draco, shh, it's going to be alright.”

He was barely listening to her. He felt so empty, like his climax had drained him not only of his energy but also of his humanity.

He didn't try to struggle when he felt the tip of her wand press against his temple, her other hand gently brushing away his hair.

“You're such a good boy”, she told him, her voice sounding a million miles away. “Don't worry, I will be taking care of you. Of _both_ of you. I will take care of _everything._ ”

He didn't ask her what she meant. It didn't matter anyway.

He closed his eyes, basking in the sweet oleander scent as he wondered if, maybe, if he could just fall asleep, he would wake up somewhere else, somewhere different, when none of that had ever actually happened.

“Good night, Draco.” she said. _“Obliviate”._

  


  


_Ask me if I’m happy,_

_What does it mean?_

_I’ll tell you that I am if you tell me I’m dreaming_

_To wake up in a place I’ve never been,_

_Wake up with a face I’ve never seen,_

_Wake up with the purest sense of being,_

_Yeah to wake up to a woman that isn’t screaming..._

 

[Mother Mother - Happy]

 

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings that were not included in tags: Character Death, Pregnancy**
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